Sleep Talks
by Technical Technicalities
Summary: "The truth is that I just don't like my hair, and being covered was like being in my own little world. A world where I lived a normal life, and not a terrible life. Where I had actual food and stuff. A world where I could be completely normal, and not be


A/N: Somewhat of a Stenny fic, since I've always liked that pairing a little bit.(Canon age, like always~)

**Kenny's POV**

* * *

><p>It was just another typical day. I woke up to the sun beaming in my face, and my little sister jolting me awake, shouting at me to wake up. She was like my personal alarm clock, minus the yelling and groaning. What I never understood was why she felt the need to wake me up at seven AM on a Saturday.<p>

"Kenny! Wake up! We get to have waffles this morning!" Karen said enthusiastically. I gently shoved her off and rubbed my eyes. It was too early for this...but then again, anything that came before nine AM was considered "too early for this shit."

Karen, after being shoved off, giggled and ran off to the kitchen. How she could keep up such a sunny disposition constantly was beyond me. Of course, the visits from Mysterion, aka me, probably brightened her day (or night) up. I'm considered to be her 'guardian angel.'

After tugging my parka on, I lazily walked down the stairs, still half asleep. The sound of forks scraping against plates, along with "Gimme the goddamn syrup, bitch," filled my ears as I stepped into the living room. I turned the television off before continuing my short walk to the kitchen.

There, my mom was eating a waffle, Kevin was half-heartedly chewing a bite of food, my dad looked pissed, and my sister happily waved. "Morning Kenny." Mom greeted. Karen patted the seat next to her, indicating that I should sit there. I would've sat there even if she hadn't made any hand motions on that seat. Any option was better than dealing with my seemingly drunk dad.

"Kinny, why're you wearing that fucking orange parka again?" My dad slurred. He sounded a tad like Cartman, what with both of them referring to me as "Kinny".

I didn't bother replying, knowing that he would probably change the subject to something Mom did. He turned to my mom, and drunkenly slapped her. A horrified gasp came from Karen. She had witnessed this many times, but couldn't get over it, I supposed.

Soon enough, Mom and Dad were going at it, hitting each other, slapping each other with random broken shards of empty beer bottles, couch cushions, etc. Karen and Kevin sprinted to their rooms, while I slipped out the door into the somewhat refreshing, chilly air. South Park has consistent bad weather, so I was used to the weather, but it still was cold.

After standing around in the front yard for a couple of minutes, I scanned over my street. Kyle lived a few houses down, but I didn't feel much like hanging out with him today. He's one of my best friends, but I was feeling relaxed today, and his temper was something I didn't want to deal with today.

There was Cartman, who lived a street over. I liked going to his house mainly because he has a nice food supply, along with amazing video games. His 'poor kid' comments really got on my nerves though, so the idea of going to his house was squashed, thus leaving Stan.

I never interacted with him too much, but we're still friends. All four of us have been inseparable, except for that one time when Bebe replaced Cartman. Still though, all of us were in our own little clique. Happy that I figured out where to go, I started my route to Stan's house.

* * *

><p><strong>Stan's POV<strong>

I'm so bored. I woke up early again, due to school having me on autopilot. Even though it was 8:30 AM now, I still was bundled up under my warm blankets, not wanting to leave.

I still haven't eaten breakfast yet, as I haven't exited my room yet. Instead, I was scrolling through some apps on my phone, and not planning to do anything productive with my life until at least noon.

That is, until Mom called "Stanley! Your friend is here!"

I thought that Kyle wasn't going to come over until, like four or five PM for that sleepover. "Tell Kyle I'll be right down." I yelled back as I snuggled deeper into the blankets. Knowing him, he'd probably just come up on his own and rip me out of my cocoon of blankets in a couple minutes.

"It's Kenny, not Kyle!" Mom replied. I sighed. I never really hung out with him individually, so what did he want?

Eventually, I had to tear out of my blankets and lazily go down the stairs, still trying to pull on my brown jacket and tugging on my hat. Kenny was still standing outside, eying me, which instantly made me uncomfortable. I hated when people looked at you straight on, it was like you were being judged for something.

"Yes?" I asked indignantly. Even through that parka that covered up almost everything on his face, I could see him blush. He looked at the ground.

"Nothing." He murmured. I stepped outside and closed the door.

"So what? How much money do you need?"

"...I just thought we could hang out..." He said awkwardly.

"Is Cartman not around today or something?" I asked.

"He's here."

"I thought Butters was going to Seattle next week."

"He's still here."

"Then why the fuck are you here to see me."

"Aren't we friends?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Yeah."

"Is it so hard to believe that I came over to hang out with you?"

"Considering that you really only ever talk to me when you need money, yes." I replied.

"Dude shut up. Let's go eat ice cream." Kenny suggested.

"Am I gonna have to cover for you?"

"Damn it Stan! I have money!" He was starting to get a little pissed. How cute. I smirked.

"Let's go then." I said, and we started walking down the road to the mall.

* * *

><p><strong>Kenny's POV<strong>

Sometimes, I couldn't believe Stan. He could be such a fucking smartass at times. At other times, he was an embodiment of negativity though.

"What have you been up to?" I questioned in an attempt to make conversation.

"Not much. I'm going to have a sleepover with Kyle later though." He replied.

"Oh...can I come?" I asked. He looked skeptical.

"Um...why?"

"I never really get to hang out with you guys because I'm usually with Cartman or Butters. I should get to know my other friends better, right?"

"Sure, whatever." Stan said in an uncaring tone. He was starting to remind me of Craig...

"Okay..." I replied. The next few minutes were spent in somewhat awkward silence. I found it weird that him and I were in the same group of friends, yet I didn't know him well. All I knew was that he wanted to break it off with Wendy, he has black hair, and he's 'super best friends' with Kyle. Super best friends my ass, I'm pretty sure those guys are closet gays.

Everyone already knew that I'm willing to swing in any direction, but I do prefer tits. Women are a lot more appealing than men sometimes...

Anyway, we arrived at the ice cream place. I ordered chocolate, he ordered vanilla. We sat down at a tiny table outside, and licked our frozen treats in silence for a period of time. Eventually, I tried to make small talk, again. "This ice cream is pretty good."

Stan nodded in agreement.

"Hey dude?" I asked, trying to hook his attention. He looked up from his ice cream.

"What?"

"How do you keep your hair under that hat?" I asked. He looked confused as he absentmindedly took his hat off. Stan had nice hair actually. It looked brushed, unlike my mop of blonde hair. He had bangs too, something that I've always wanted, but was too poor/lazy to get.

"I guess the same way you keep your hair and face under your parka. Why do you always hide your face?" Stan questioned while he put his hat back on.

"Uh...just because." I replied. I wasn't about to say the real reason. It was a ridiculous reason, but a reason nonetheless.

"What do you mean, just because?"

"I'll tell you why later," I told him. He looked suspicious as he finished off his ice cream. "Hey, what time is it?"

"It's ten AM. Why?" Stan replied.

"And when are you having that sleepover thing with your boyfriend?"

"What?! Kyle's my super best friend, not my boyfriend, asshole!" Stan shot back.

"You didn't answer my question."

Stan sighed before answering. "It's at four."

"That's a lot of time to kill."

"Are you planning on spending the entire day with me or something?" He asked while raising an eyebrow.

"Do you not want me to?" I asked. He did one of his nose bridge pinches before saying no.

"We can go to my house." He suggested, and we set off for his house again.

* * *

><p>We went inside Stan's house. He probably didn't have too much of a nice house, but it was basically a mansion compared to my crappy excuse for a house. They had an actual fridge, and a working television, and even a stain free couch!<p>

He sat down on the couch while I zoomed to his kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and it was full! The fridge contained steak, chicken, soups, vegetables, everything! The refrigerator back at my house had a few empty cans of beer and a rotten apple. Very appetizing...

I grabbed a fresh apple and went back to the living room. It felt good to bite into a piece of food and not have to worry about whether it's got anything living in it or not.

"What are we watching? Is that Red Racer?" I asked as I sat down beside Stan.

"Yeah. There's nothing else on." He replied. I munched on my apple while we watched the show. I didn't find it particularly interesting, as all the show had consisted of so far was a bunch of cars ramming into more cars, but I guess that was entertaining to Stan.

After finishing my apple, I got up and threw the core in the trash, then returned to the couch. I decided to lie down on Stan and take a nap, because you know, why not? Apparently, that didn't fly too well with Stan.

"What the fuck Kenny?"

"What? Don't you and Kyle do the same thing?"

"...What?"

"I'm trying to take a nap, now shut up."

"Do you not see the fucking couch pillows?" He pointed to them in slight irritation. I smirked.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" I asked in a (hopefully) sly tone of voice. I could see the awkward blush on his cheeks.

"Goddamnit Kenny, go away!" He said. I responded by laughing and pulling my parka strings tighter.

"Naw, you make a pretty good pillow Stan." I replied and closed my eyes. He leaned into the couch, doing another nose bridge pinch.

"Do you have to hit on everything that moves?" Stan said.

"It's called being flirtatious. Look into it sometime."

"I'm fucking ten, I'm not looking to be flirtatious."

"Well that's too bad isn't it?" I asked while turning over on his lap. He tried to move under me, but I had him pinned down.

"See this is why I don't hang out with you individually! You make things awkward!"

"That's probably just you." I replied. That hurt a bit, coming from the guy who's supposed to be one of my best friends. Stan gave up, and let me take a nap on him.

Pushover.

* * *

><p>"Yeah. He passed out a while ago. I can't feel my legs." I woke up to Stan talking to somebody. I opened an eye to see that it was Kyle, holding a bunch of sleepover crap. Oh yeah, there was supposed to be a sleepover...was I sleeping for that long?!<p>

"Isn't that cute?"

"Shut up Kyle, he's the one who decided to take a nap on me." Stan replied. Damn right I took a nap on him. I'm not using one of those fucking thin couch pillows.

"I brought over some pizza. You can have some if you manage to get up without disturbing Sleeping Beauty." Kyle told him, and deliberately sat at the far end of the couch. I moved slightly when Stan started to try to reach over him.

"Give me the pizza! Kyle! Pizza!" Stan complained. I tried to stifle a laugh, which proved to be easy since Stan was crushing me. I decided to push him over when I started getting a headache from it.

"I'm up, I'm up!" I exclaimed while shoving Stan off. Stan brutally pushed me off the couch and grabbed a piece of pizza. "What the fuck dude?"

"And that is for killing my legs, along with preventing me from getting my pizza!" Stan huffed. Kyle started to laugh.

"I feel like I'm thirdwheeling here." Kyle told us. Stan shot a glare at him while I simply smirked.

"Oh please, I've been thirdwheeling with you two fags for a while." I countered. Stan and Kyle shared a look, before ignoring me and popping in some war movie.

"Are we just going to do the same thing as always?" Kyle asked. Stan nodded while I stayed in my place on the floor, intrigued. What did he mean 'same thing?' Stan got up and went upstairs, returning with a giant fleece blanket.

The two of them positioned themselves on the couch, and got under the blanket, then played the movie.

"Am I just going to be the left out potato over here?" I asked. Neither of them replied. Nope, the two of them just continued watching their fucking war movie thing, while I sat on my ass on the floor. This was fucked up. "Hey! I don't want to be a third wheel again!"

They both ignored me again. Screw them, I was going to go under that blanket too. "Scoot over Stan." I commanded. He didn't listen. I slid under anyway, and was promptly cut off by Stan grabbing the edge of the blankets and wrapping it around him, therefore making it so that I couldn't join them.

"Kyle! Do you see this shit?!" I asked.

"Shut the fuck up Kenny, we're missing all the guns!"

"Whatever. I'm going home." I told them to see if I would get a reaction. I didn't when I stepped out the door. Well, lesson learned; Don't try to sleep over when super best faggots are having their own sleepover.

I rolled my eyes as I started to walk back to my house. I _totally_ wanted to spend the evening with my drunk ass family rather than two of my supposed friends anyway.

"Kenny don't leave." I recognized that voice behind me.

"Why? Wouldn't want to bother you guys, right?"

Stan did yet another nose bridge pinch. Was he aware of how often he did it or...? "Sorry. We were being kinda dicks."

"You don't fucking say."

"Sorry. You can come under the blanket if you want. Just don't fall asleep on me again." Stan told me. I shrugged as I followed him back inside. I usually get easily persuaded by people. That would be one of my bad traits.

* * *

><p>"We should go to bed." Kyle suggested as he yawned. We were already in pajamas (except for me, since I wore my parka to bed...) and had our teeth brushed.<p>

"Yeah, it's one in the morning, let's go to bed already." Stan agreed. We went upstairs, and Kyle gave me a sleeping bag. He and Stan clambered into Stan's bed.

"Night g-"

"Hey why does Kyle get to sleep in the bed?" I questioned.

"Because he's my super best friend. Duh."

"Why can't I sleep in the bed?"

"Why do you even want to sleep in my bed?" Stan asked.

"I haven't slept on an actual bed in ages! Please?" I begged. The shitty mattress that I call a bed wasn't very comfortable to sleep on at my house. Kyle sighed as he got out of the bed.

"Whatever." He said, climbing into the sleeping bag. I jumped into the bed. Wow, it was actually comfy! And I had a blanket and a pillow to sleep with!

"Night Kyle. Night Kenny." Stan said and turned off the light. I snuggled under the blanket, not used to actually being warm at night.

* * *

><p>I woke up in the middle of the night for some inexplicable reason. I wasn't thirsty or anything, I just woke up. I looked over to see that it was four AM. I've only had three hours of sleep so far.<p>

I rolled over, only to find that Stan, the guy who had been uncomfortable with me falling asleep on him, was all cuddled up to me. I snickered mentally, wondering if this was what happened when him and Kyle slept together.

I tried to get up, but Stan had a grasp on my parka. "No...don't. They're die. No waiit." He started mumbling. I didn't take Stan to be the type of person who slept-talk. I stayed still and listened to him.

"Oh no that squirrel! It's on fire...my shoes. They're gone. Where is my dinklebob? What?" He mumbled. What the fuck was he even dreaming about. It sounded interesting.

"Kenny come back...no don't leave me here, Kennyyy I'm going to miss you. No you can't leave. I like you Kenny you shouldn't leave...I'll grab your fucking parka get your ass back here Kenny...is that a pillow? Kenny are you a pillow? Ajaiunswijehd. Kennnyyy come back. I didn't get to tell you something. Noo...hey is that a floating water bottle?" Stan rambled on.

"Who the fuck is Mitch? Kenny do you know who Mitch is? Kennyyy why are you dating Butters? Wait where did Butters come from? Is he a hobbit? Kenny don't go out with him, I like you...don't leave me again...oh hey Kyle."

He was entertaining to listen to. I did wonder who Mitch was though.

"Aw he left. I didn't get to tell him that I liked him. Should've...asked...him...if he wanted to eat a carrot."

I'm not entirely sure what he was even doing in his dream now. Apparently, it sounded like I left him and he never told me he liked me. What?

"I'll come back," I whispered to him. He smiled. I rolled over again, before rolling back over. "I never told you why I didn't like having my face shown. The truth is that I just don't like my hair, and being covered was like being in my own little world. A world where I lived a normal life, and not a terrible life. Where I had actual food and stuff. A world where I could be completely normal, and not be that poor kid who hits on everything that moves. I feel like if I let myself get too immersed in reality, then I'll be my own stereotype. This might not make sense because it's four in the fucking morning, but I told you why." I said quietly. Stan was silent for moments, although I could still hear his light snoring.

"I won't judge you Mr. Chipmunk. I'll treat you like a normal chipmunk. You don't have to be the poor slutty squirrel, I'll help you." Stan replied. I assumed that the chipmunk was a metaphor for me.

"I'll help you too I guess." I replied. Stan threw an arm around my chest and scooched closer towards me.

_He won't remember any of this in the morning,_ I thought to myself as I closed my eyes. I'll always remember it though.


End file.
